


Echoing (A Bush Medicine Oneshot)

by psychotic_nonsense



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, maybe i don’t know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:20:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotic_nonsense/pseuds/psychotic_nonsense
Summary: There’s a cliff near the battlefield of RED and BLU, one that overlooks a wide canyon full of trees and accompanied by a river. In the distance, snow-tipped mountains fade into the soft fog above the breathable layer of the atmosphere.Sniper never expected to hear that one of his favorite hangout spots had a myth surrounding it. He obviously ignored Spy’s stupid attempts at embarrassing him, but curiosity killed the cat, you know?What that myth gave him, however, was so much more complicated than he ever could’ve thought.[Based on a YouTube video I found and enjoyed]
Relationships: Medic/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Kudos: 28





	Echoing (A Bush Medicine Oneshot)

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this on Wattpad, but once my friend made a side story based on this, I decided to post it here.
> 
> The side story is by Marksfabulousbutt, if you’re interested.

Sniper was leaning against a lone tree on a cliff overlooking a canyon not far from RED's base, his hat covering his face as he sat in its shade. It had been a rough couple of days, so it was nice to finally get some peace and quiet.

The setting sun's light was dim behind his closed eyelids, a soft smile tugging at Sniper's lips as a gust of wind ruffled his hair before traveling down into the canyon, accompanied by a whistle. Man, was it a nice day.

Sadly, around here, nice things didn't last for long.

"Quite the evening, is it not?"

Sniper jumped in his place, quickly grabbing his hat and pulling it back to face his teammate. It was Spy, casually puffing a cigarette as smoke clouded around him, looking as smug as he usually did.

The Australian grumbled, leaning back against the tree trunk but still watching the third Support. Contrary to what most would think, he didn't necessarily hate Spy - that hatred was towards his BLU counterpart - but he did find the bloke pretty bloody annoying.

"Yeah, an' oi _was_ enjoyin' it by _myself_ ," he spat back, hoping the spook would take the hint and leave.

Of course, for all his talk of 'reading people like books,' he didn't. The Frenchman simply looked out calmly over the sprawling rock and hills of the canyon they overlooked.

Sniper turned back and closed his eyes again. Knowing the man wouldn't leave, he may as well just ignore him.

But yet again, Spy broke the soothing quiet. "You know, there is a bit of a legend surrounding this place," he said, prompting the annoyed sharpshooter to open his eyes yet again. The standing mercenary gestured out to the land before them, not moving his eyes from the sight.

Sniper let out an airy chuckle of disbelief, leaning back once more. "Yeah roight," he muttered.

"I'm not lying, bushman," Spy replied, and although he couldn't see him, Sniper knew an eyebrow was raised. You could hear it. "I have heard that if one is to sing on this cliff, they would hear the voice of their soulmate sing back."

While he had spoken, the Australian looked back at him once more, finding him to be completely enamored by the simple tale. When he finished speaking, however, Sniper couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Really, spook? There's no way... in 'ell... that that's true," he gasped out between fits of laughter.

Spy just looked annoyed. "I won't kid about this, Sniper," the Frenchman replied, though he was barely heard through his teammate's slowly dying chuckles. "I, myself, have done it before, and it is true."

Sniper scoffed. "Yeah roight. Sounds loike a load'a bull if you ask me." He sat up fully, giving up on his attempts to ignore the other man. "An' how do oi know yer not just tryin' t' trick me?"

Spy chuckled. "You don't, but there's nothing wrong with indulging in a little myth, is there not?" he asked.

The sharpshooter raised an eyebrow. "You know, if you're so confident in it, why don't you prove it?" he dared.

Spy exhaled a puff of smoke, and shook his head. "Mon ami, you would not hear a reply. The only way you'll get the confirmation you so desire is by doing it yourself," he explained.

Sniper scoffed again. "No way."

The Frenchman glanced at him, his eyes tingling with mischief. "Oh well, suit yourself," he says, starting to walk away. "You must fear that you'll not hear anything back."

The insult was clearly understood by the other Support, and he turned to find his teammate already sprinting from the scene.

"Oi!" Sniper yelled, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his blade. Oh, that man can laugh all he wants... in Respawn. "Bloody spook!-"

* * *

It was a similar setting to the day before; sunset, slight wind, and the gorgeous sight of the canyon below the cliff.

Sniper glanced from side to side, watching for anyone around. Nobody knew he was here, not even Spy - who had himself a laughing fit yesterday in Respawn the moment he recovered from that stab.

He sighed, moving away from the tree to face the apparent myth-inducing canyon on the edge of the cliff.

"Can't bloody believe oi'm doin' this...," the Australian grumbled. Yeah, he didn't believe any bit of that shit Spy was going on about, but some part of him really did want to know what voice he'd hear. That's what drew him back here.

He felt a bit embarrassed now. He wasn't much of a singer, and even when he did, his accent would jumble up his words. He stuck to his sax, and that was enough, but now, he had to sing.

Sniper started humming to himself, trying to think of a song. It was quiet, so hopefully not enough to trigger the canyon's... 'magic,' or whatever it was.

After thinking it through for a few moments, he gave up on picking a true song with words, and settled for something simple.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and allowed his voice to move. The tune was birthed deep within his chest, and it rose and fell in pitch, traveling through the air to echo throughout the rock below.

One slow, song-less tune. It lasted barely a few seconds before Sniper stopped.

He let the last of his echoed voice disappear before he opened his eyes again. He watched the forests of plant and rock, waiting for something to happen, or a voice to return.

And yet, nothing. The Australian scoffed, shaking his head at his stupidity as he turned to leave. Of course it didn't work. Spy was just trying to get under his skin and force him to embarrass himself. All of this was just a load of-

His thoughts were interrupted by a light gust of wind, and what was traveling on it.

A voice.

Sniper whipped back around and froze, his eyes widening as a song echoed in the air and into his head. He felt it reverberating within his chest, a slow, deep, harmonious melody that somehow perfectly blended to continue his own tune.

Sniper felt breathless. That sound... it had to be the most beautiful melody he'd ever hear in his life. It sent his vision hazy, his limbs tingling, and made his chest rumble with it's emotion.

He'd give his life if it meant he could listen to it forever. He never wanted it to end.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it faded out, ending on a slow, yet deeply saddening, note.

The trance Sniper was placed in was lifted, leaving him a shaking, breathless, teary eyed mess that stared wide-eyed at the canyon. He blinked a few times, shaking his head as he gasped for breath.

What the _hell_ was that? There's no way that that was what Spy was rambling about yesterday... and yet...

The Australian could still feel the deep aching that had spread through him with the song. It was for the power in that voice, and the need to see the face behind it. He had to know; to whom did that voice belong to?

Sniper's breathing finally calmed, and the feeling of the light wind returned to him. He placed a hand on his chest, his pounding heart and running thoughts unable to relax. He found quickly that his hands were also shaking, his nerves still on edge from that... _voice_...

Sniper forced another deep breath in an attempt to soothe his twitching, but to no avail. He gazed back out over the canyon, staring at the rocks in their patterns and the life jutting from them with new eyes.

Still looking, he turned, and after a moment more - some part of him hoping that if he just stayed a little longer, that magnificent voice might return - he fully started heading back to the base.

He got his answers, at least, but all it brought was more questions.

* * *

"Mein gott, herr Scout. You are a terrible singer," Medic chuckled with a shake of his head.

Scout and Soldier had gotten into yet another argument - “Two idiots trying to out-dumb the other,” Spy had said - that resulted in the younger mercenary breaking an arm. Soldier had called him an 'America-hating child' as Medic and Heavy wheeled Scout to the Infirmary.

Treating the injury was fairly simple; setting the bone back in place and letting the Medi Gun stitch it back together. The younger boy's cries of pain during the process had even been satisfying. It was Scout singing along to a nearby radio that was tough for the doctor.

It was some new poplar hit by the ever-so-present Tom Jones, and one that the Boston kid hadn't heard before. That didn't stop him from attempting to sing along, if that's what you want to call it, while sitting on an operating table.

"Whaddya mean, doc?" Scout exclaimed, barely able to keep his broken arm in place under the healing energy as the other waved frantically in the air. Medic couldn't see the other as his back was turned, but he could imagine that flabbergasted expression the boy usually had with that tone, and chuckled again. "I've got da voice of a goddamn saint!"

Medic laughed outright at that, turning to face Scout as he adjusted his glasses. "My friend, Soldier's _raccoons_ have better musical talent zhan you!" he claimed, laughing again at the sight of the injured man's annoyed expression.

"Like you could do any better, Medic," the mercenary dared. He went to cross his arms in an attempt to look intimidating, but he let out a yelp as he was pleasantly reminded again of his injury as it moved away from the Medi Gun's range.

The German hummed slightly at that statement. "I do believe I could," he inquires. "It has been a vhile since my lessons as a child, but I suppose it couldn't be vorse zhan your abilities." An eyebrow had risen as he talked, and he wasn't about to pass an opportunity to add another much needed wound to the kid's ego.

Scout laughed airily, leaning back on his good arm. "Well then, if you're so confident, go right ahead," he dared, waiting for the moment where he could throw the doctor's insults right back at him.

Medic thought for a moment, searching for the right song either from his childhood lessons or one of his own enjoyment to prove the other RED wrong. He shut off the radio still blasting Tom Jones, leaving the room in complete silence as he kept digging through his mind.

With a soft sigh, however, he couldn't find the right tune, but he wasn't about to back out now.

As he closed his eyes, the German settled on something small. It wouldn't be much, nor last very long, but it could get the point across.

* * *

Sniper was roaming the halls of the RED base mere days after he heard that melody over the cliff.

He just couldn't get his mind around who that voice could belong to, and there was no way he would ask Spy about it. The smug look he'd get in return just by proving he had tried it was enough to forget about that option.

Was it a stranger, or someone he knew? The voice didn't sound familiar, but there was an edge to it that he recognized only slightly. The voice itself, however, was the most confusing. That tone used wasn't uncommon in most sheilas he'd met before, but it felt too... _deep_...

Sniper shivered as he turned a corner. Just the thought of the voice made him long for answers, or at the very least to hear it again, just one more time...

Suddenly, there was a sound to his right. He froze in place, every one of his senses clouding over and focusing just on what had appeared from nowhere. His eyes widened, his breath hitched, and he forgot where he was, who he was.

_The melody had returned._

* * *

The tune Medic had chosen was without a song. It was a bit of a random tune, but he rolled with it. He opened his mouth and released the melody from deep within his chest. It rose and fell evenly, the emotion he unconsciously placed into it enough to make Heavy weep.

He ended the song on a note that felt sadder than he had intended, his voice echoing just barely in the chilled air.

Medic opened his eyes, finding his sight down on the floor beneath him, before turning his gaze up to see the reaction on his audience's face.

Scout was the epitome of shell shocked. His eyes were widened to likely uncomfortable levels, his jaw agape and closer to the floor than the rest of his skull. His arm had long since completed it's healing process, though still lay slack on the table as if forgotten about.

"Uh...," Medic muttered, unsure if the boy was still there in the head, "Scout?"

The Bostonian righted himself with a jolt, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes as a grin of pure shock took over his expression.

"Holy shit, doc! Where the hell d'you learn how to do dat?!" he exclaimed, leaning forward as if awaiting another show. "Dat had t'be the second greatest thing I've ever heard in my life!"

Medic briefly wondered what was better than his singing to warrant first place, but he was more surprised by the fact that he had liked that mere tune so much. He suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, his face turning just a hint redder as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, vell, it certainly couldn't have been _zhat_ good," he said, a soft grin slowly spreading across his face. "It's been... vell, _years_ since I've had lessons, much less sang anyzhing."

"Nah, man, that was really good!" Scout praised with a wave of his hand, still smiling. "Makes me wonder what the hell you're doin' in here when-"

He was cut off when the door to the Infirmary suddenly slammed open, causing both mercenaries to jump in surprise, the patient nearly falling off of the table as the doctor stumbled on his feet.

They both turned towards the door to find Sniper had been the one to burst in, his eyes wide as they landed immediately on the two recovering from the jump scare. His breath was struggled and ragged, as if he'd sprinted miles to get here.

"Dear gott, Sniper!" Medic cried, picking himself off of the table he had fallen against. "Vhat's wrong?"

The Australian looked rapidly between the Offense and other Support, his expression blank to the former but desperate to the latter.

"Oi, uh...," he stammered, straightening himself out as he was stared at. "Oi thought oi heard someone singin'."

"Oh!" Scout exclaimed, recovering in an instant, his grin returning as he pointed to the other. "Dat was the doc! Unless you thought it was me, which I won't stop ya," he added, turning his arm around to his puffed out chest with pride.

Medic rolled his eyes, turning to the Sniper, who was still staring at his teammates with a desperate, glazed over gaze. "Ja, it vas me," he admitted with a shrug.

The other Support relaxed very visibly. He blinked the haze out of his eyes and let his shoulders drop with a soft sigh. He still looked keyed up, however, and his eyebrows scrunched up ever so slightly behind his sunglasses. It made the German's curiosity spike.

"Oh," Sniper muttered, suddenly looking very uncomfortable as he subtly looked away. "Well... that was, uh... pretty good, doc."

"'Pretty good'?!" Scout yelled in disbelief, staring at the other as if what he'd said was pure blasphemy. "Dat was better than everyone else's here! Heavy sounds like grinding metal, Demo's usually too drunk when he sings, Soldier doesn't know anything dat isn't on dat trumpet, and Engie only knows country songs. I mean, it still wasn't as good as mine, and nowhere near as good as Tom Jones, but..."

As Scout rambled, Sniper mumbled something that Medic was surprised didn't stop the boy's speech. "Well... oi just wanted to say that that singin' was really good, doc. Hope oi, uh... didn't bother ya." He didn't stay to hear a reply, quickly running from the room, his rapid footsteps fading from range.

Medic found himself watching those swinging doors as the Support booked it. He had caught the Australian's expression as he left; it was full of disbelief, a minor bit of fear, and so, so much confusion. What was it that would've caused an outburst like that, much less the emotions he could see on his face?

Scout finally stopped talking when he heard Sniper leave, staring similarly at the still moving doors.

"Sheesh... What's up wit him?" he questioned.

Medic didn't turn to face the other as he slowly shook his head, murmuring an, "I don't know...," as his eyes continued to stare at the now closed doors.

* * *

There's no way. It isn't possible.

But it had sounded so similar. It had made him react the same way.

_He had found the owner of the voice._ Sniper roughly shook his head at that, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to believe any of it.

But it was the truth, and as Sniper leaned against a wall, his head hidden in his arm and his breaths shallow and pained, he contemplated it.

It was the truth.

* * *

"Ah, herr Sniper! Just zhe man I vas looking for!" Medic called out as he entered the cafeteria of the base. He had spent all morning looking for the other, finally finding him pouring out a cup of coffee by the fridge.

The doctor was a bit glad he had found Sniper when he did. The Australian seemed lost in his thoughts, and his entry snapped him back to reality quickly enough to stop the tipped over coffee pot from overfilling his mug.

"Oh, uh... hey there, doc," the other Support muttered, avoiding his sight. At least until he remembered what was said, then he stared at him. "Wait, wot were you lookin' for me for?"

Medic came up to his side, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "I vas hoping you vould accompany me on an experiment," he offered, a calm, professional smile never leaving his face.

Sniper looked a bit confused at that, but he looked over at his mug, then back up. "Er... sure?" he answered with a shrug. "Oi'm not doin' much else today..."

The doctor's eyes widened slightly. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, already walking off. "Follow me." He heard the other quickly shuffling after him as he moved through the base.

The German lead them both not to his office or the Infirmary, but instead out of the base and into the evening light. Medic sighed softly, always envying the few days where there was a slight chill to the desert air. The setting sun lit the clouds above them in a calm orange glow, the slowly fading reds of the sky giving way for dull blues and indigos.

Dust billowed around the boots of the walking mercenaries, Medic's coat briefly brushing the ground as it flapped elegantly in the cooled breeze. Not a word was exchanged as the two moved through the war-torn buildings around them, getting farther and farther from the RED base.

Finally, they began to near a lone tree upon a cliff that overlooked a valley of forest and rock, and that's when Sniper decided to speak.

"So... wot was yer experiment about again?" he asked. Medic looked back, finding him to be looking at the canyon below with slight recognition. A hand was stuffed into his jeans pocket while the other scratched at his hair.

The doctor didn't change his soft expression, moving near the edge of the cliff to sit on the grass. The Australian opted to sit against the tree, its shade making his sunglasses darker.

"I had a conversation vith Spy not too long ago, and he told me zhat zhis cliff had a myth surrounding it," Medic explained excitedly, still looking at Sniper. The other's eyebrows shot up once he spoke. "He said zhat if vone is to sing atop zhis cliff, zhey vould hear zhe voice of their soulmate sing back."

Sniper looked curiously at the doctor. "Oi didn't know you were one t' believe in that kinda stuff, doc," he stated.

Medic scoffed, waving a hand in the air. "I don't, but I vas a bit curious. Magic has alvays fascinated me, and zhis seemed like zhe perfect opportunity!" he exclaimed with a grin.

The Australian shook his head softly at that, turning his head to gaze at the sight below. "Then... why bring me along?" he asked.

Medic kept staring at him, watching the way his eyes held a bit of sadness as looked at the forest. "I figured you vould've liked to test zhis as vell," he answered. "You don't seem like vone to believe in myths either."

Sniper simply glanced down, his blank expression deepening just slightly.

It didn't seem like he would give a reply to that, so Medic looked away and back towards the canyon. He took a deep breath, in, then out. He came to this cliff to run an experiment, but now he felt a bit... nervous, somehow. He sifted through his mind, trying to think of a proper song to use.

"Don't know wot t' sing?" Sniper asked. Medic didn't look at him as he shook his head to reply.

"Well..." There was the rustling of grass, and when Sniper spoke again, the voice was right next to Medic. "How 'bout that song you sang to Scout? Oi think that might work." His voice was peculiarly soft as he gave his suggestion.

Medic thought it through for a moment, and nodded. The myth surely didn't need to be that specific. A simple tune could work just fine. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and took a deep breath.

And when he sang, it was the best he'd ever done so before. The melody came from a place in his chest he hadn't been able to reach no matter what he was taught, and the tune was deep and saddened. His voice rose and fell evenly, the song echoing through the air long after he finished.

Medic opened his eyes, staring only at the canyon below, at the sloping hills of greenery and grey. He waited for a return, a reply, something that would prove this myth. For a moment, he lost hope that it would be true.

Then... Everything faded out; his senses, his breath, his sight, gone. All that was left was an echoing melody that traveled on the breeze coming from the canyon.

Dear god, that _voice_... The song that reverberated through every inch of Medic's head and chest had to be the most beautiful thing he'd ever hear in his life. It was a low, deep tune, slow and simple, and yet it brought tears to his eyes at the pure emotion within it. A tingling sensation passed down his spine, making him shiver as it sunk into his limbs and made them go numb.

He could be dead, for all he cared. His little deal with the devil could be broken and he'd spend eternity in flames, and he just couldn't care. As long as that song, that gorgeous song, was still there, he'd be content anywhere. He never wanted it to end.

And yet, no matter how much he wished against it, the melody faded out, drifting away from him in a calm ending and taking its hold on him with it.

Medic blinked a few times as he returned to reality from his brief stint in heaven. His breaths were ragged, his eyes watery, and his limbs numb. His head felt empty without the song within it, and he shut his eyes tightly, attempting to calm himself as the feeling of prickly grass and a soothing breeze returned to him.

"Heard somethin'?" A voice to his right made him jump, and he turned his head sharply. He had been so lost in that tune that he had forgotten Sniper was there. The Australian looked at his teammate worriedly. Did he really look that shell shocked?

"Ja...," Medic replied in a sigh, looking back over at the canyon. He could still feel the song's emotion reverberating deep within his chest, in his heart. There was something about it that felt... familiar.

He suddenly gained an urge, one so strong it felt like he'd kill to satisfy it. He had to know; he had to know who it was that voice belonged to.

But that was for later. He cleared his throat and straightened himself out, glancing at Sniper expectantly. "Alright, you're up," he stated.

The sharpshooter looked curiously at him. "Wot?" he asked.

"Vell, I brought you vith me so you could test zhe myth as vell," he explained, restating what he said earlier. "And you have my confirmation zhat it vorks. Don't you vant to know?"

Sniper looked off to the side, suddenly looking very... actually, Medic couldn't place what his teammate's expression was. It had hints of confusion, embarrassment, sadness, acception, and a whole slew of other emotions that spiked his own curiosity.

"Oi've, uh..." Sniper was stalling. "Well, doc, oi've already come here before and tried it. No point in doin' it again." He took off his glasses, staring at the grass beneath his boots. His eyes were blank but full of emotion at the same time.

So he already knows of his voice. Why so quiet now, then? Was he ashamed of what he heard? Did he... hear anything at all?

"Vell, vhy not?" Medic asked softly. Sniper looked up at him with a similar softness. "I mean, I have never heard your singing. Perhaps you could do it just vonce more?"

He didn't feel embarrassment. He was genuinely curious. This was his teammate, right below him on the roster, and yet he'd never known much about him. He felt an urge to fix that, to become as much a friend to the other Support as he was to everyone else.

Sniper continued to stare at him, glancing down every so often, before finally he sighed heavily, turning his head back to face the canyon. His eyes were closed, his one hand dropping his sunglasses onto the grass.

A moment of silence. Sniper took a deep breath to calm himself, then inhaled again. He opened his mouth, and...

Medic froze. He couldn't feel anything. His senses were still there, but now they tuned out the world and focused only on the man beside him. More importantly, they focused on his _singing_.

A low, deep tone. Slow and simple. Birthed from a place in one's chest that made a listener's insides tingle like an earthquake. Rising and falling like a hilly valley. Medic felt breathless.

The tune... It sounded the same; made him feel the same way. Except now, it was real.

The one singing had done this before. He'd already tested the myth before now. Dear god, how long had he known?

Sniper finished in the same way, though now the ending was edged with... relief, acceptance, and sadness. The air took his slowly fading voice and carried it over the canyon, sending it whistling through the rock and wood below.

He opened his eyes and finally looked up at his teammate, making eye contact, something new between them now.

Everything Sniper had done before suddenly made so much sense to Medic. The freakout when he first sang, the avoidance, the sadness; it all made sense. It only took him till now, when the clues were right in front of his face, to finally see.

And as the two fated companions stared into the blue depths of each other's eyes, a song echoed through both of their ears, traveling through their chests and making every sense fade away. A single, free melody sung by two.


End file.
